Faust, The Tale Of Holy-Talia
by demi-soul
Summary: A retelling of the Germany Legend, Faust. This retelling features a different plot and Holy-Talia. There are many references to real historical events involving the Holy Roman Empire, England, and France. I do not own Hetalia, Faust, or any characters in this story. References to reality may be intentional. Leave a comment in response.
1. Aspiration

A long time ago, in a world we've long forgotten but are always influenced by, a young German boy is sitting in his library. The lengthy table filled with books and journals left open, having read the majority from cover to cover he sat alone tapping the table top softly with his fingers.

Holy Rome was reflecting patiently upon the day's reading, removing his black hat he ruffled his short blonde hair. Quietly he spoke in his strong dialect, "I'll never be smart enough to be a strong nation, never mind my battle skills…"

The child let out a sigh, then closed a book with a red cover. The title read "An Unlimited Knowledge", however the name was crossed out in a scrawl of ink. He had read this same text many time, all two-hundred pages. Holy Rome thought this made the selection of books look incredibly untidy, he would have to send for a maid to clean it later.

Sliding off his chair, the small German boy slowly began to make his way to the exit of the room. He stopped dead as he heard voices from outside, one of the ever irritated 'Austria', the other feminine and new to him. He peeked narrowly through the doorway, Austria walked past in his usual navy blue coat, his brown 'Mariazell' flicking off his hair still visible as he passed. Although only is back was visible, he was clearly showing authority, clearly it was his home too.

The other figure was much shorter than the tower in Austria, a child much like Holy Rome himself. They walked past following Austria, short with a bob of Auburn hair on their head, a curled flick jutting off their left emerging out from under the soft white cap. It slowly drew on Holy Rome, this child was wearing a dress.

"Oh my god… Is this the new maid?" Holy Rome asked himself as he closed the door again. He let a soft grin out, then a blush, before opening the door enough to fit his head through, then he looked again. He returned to late, she had already turned a corner with Austria.

* * *

Holy Rome spent the next few days in his room, books piled up high all around him still. He read through every page again, hoping to find some great secret to becoming powerful. He daren't ask his Grandfather, 'Germania'. The older nation would never look upon gaining power well.

Regardless of this, Holy Rome had learnt more about the new maid. Her name, or so he thought, was 'Italy', she showed great interest in Austria's ghastly piano music and the much more professional painting and art. Holy Rome never had much talent for either of these things. "How am I ever going to win her affection?" he murmured as he slammed the next book shut.

"This is all a pain… " Holy Rome rolled over onto his side and looked at the wall. They white wall seeming blank in comparison the red dyed bed sheets beneath him. It was strange how red was such a royal colour, he always thought it symbolised blood and all that was wrong in the world.

Several more days passed, it became increasingly harder to keep away from the Italian maid. She was perfect, and Holy Rome just felt weak when compared to the other nations especially Austria and Miss Hungary. Both were so big and grown up, how could he ever be like them?

* * *

Holy Rome felt he had the answer, finally gaining the courage to speak to Italy on a cool summer day. Italy was out in a field by herself, enjoying the breeze passing her by. He looked at her from a distance, as he neared he slowly began to notice her beauty in greater detail.

Italy had deep auburn, perhaps even light brown hair. Her eyes were usually closed, only opening when she felt genuine joy, they were equally brown and welcoming, like some jewel or limitless ocean. The dress covered her completely, he supposed that was important at their age, what he read in the some books didn't apply to children, but he still had to know.

Regardless, Holy Rome drew closer to the youthful girl and stopped just meters away, he put out a hand to her. He proudly stated, "Italy, if you join with me we can become the greatest nation in the world together."

The Girl stood silent for several moments, as if making the biggest choice of her short life. Either way there would only be one answer.

"No".


	2. Travelling And Books

Recently, Holy Rome had been feeling exhausted. Ever since Italy had said no to his request he had feel depressed, even books held no escape from this unending lifetime.

Aside from his own struggles, his people had begun to develop further. Most notably was the Printing Press, created by the peculiar man 'Johannes Gensfleisch zur Laden zum Gutenberg'. This was a strange contraption, it involved covering blocks with ink and pressing them into paper.

Holy Rome was asked to travel abroad to present the invention to another country, a place said to speak the language "Englisc", a new tongue that was unique to Albion's children. Or so his Grandfather Germania said.

Holy Rome was to travel by boat with someone named 'Prussia', another of his grandfather's descendants. In theory, Holy Rome's big brother.

Prussia was strange, he wore a dark-blue and purple mixed uniform similar to Austria's. His hair was un-naturally white, his eyes blood red and vicious. Holy Rome half expected him to shout out curses and devilry, instead he was deceptively quiet around Holy Rome on the trip to England.

* * *

"Hello chaps, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is England" A short blonde haired boy wandered over to Holy Rome, about the same height and similar in appearance. No doubt at all he was Saxony's child and Holy Rome's cousin.

Holy Rome sent him a soft smile and said in a mix of his native dialect and some Englisc, "Gute day, cousin. I am zhe Holy Roman Empire." He struggled to keep up with the new language, but still managed to get his general messages across to England.

Prussia had a strange habit of heading out across the water to visit his friend 'France', as a result Holy Rome was able to spend a lot of time trying out the printing press with England. Some new fellow, 'William Caxton' was claiming the right to the British version of the printing press, he ultimately presented it to the royalty there. Holy Rome simply watched from the side-lines, it bewildered him how some men can just gain power and respect by stealing another's idea and power.

* * *

Holy Rome had noticed that as more books developed in England, the language began to condense into one. As the language standardised he found himself able to have full conversations with England based on the mutual understandings. At last, he approached him with a personal topic.

"England, I need to talk to you about something" Holy Rome began.

The Englishman replied, "What is it?"

The German stuttered softly at the start, then spoke "I need to achieve power, then Italy won't be able to reject me." He wandered about the workshop, picking up a book ever so often. He stopped dead when he saw a familiar blood red cover. The book he remembered, 'An Unlimited Knowledge". The authors name was visible at last, a fellow named "Teufel Mephistopheles", literally "Devil Mephistopheles".

Holy Rome smiled softly and asked, "This author, who is he?"

England replied in a hushed tone, "Just an infamous man, one you needn't worry about".

* * *

Several days later, Holy Rome went home with Prussia. His older brother told spoke proudly, his dialect seeming foreign given how long they spent apart, "Hey, Holy Rome, Francis says 'Bonjour'. Anyway, are you happy to be going home?"

Holy Rome didn't respond to Prussia, he was much too occupied with thoughts of the Italian Maid back in Austria's home. Would she remember the silly boy who wanted her to join with him, or was he just being a silly child?


	3. The Devil's Deal

By the time Holy Rome had returned home from England he had grown compared to Italy. When he saw her again, although from behind, she wasn't much taller than before. She still worse the same hat, her dress noticeably longer too.

Holy Rome wandered around Austria's large house often, reminiscent of his youth. If not doing that he avoided Italy's gaze and spent time in the private library, he couldn't get his head around the book and its hidden message. "Unlimited Knowledge" he muttered to himself again, he never raised his voice anymore.

* * *

Italy neared the door, he gently pushed it open. He was surprised that Holy Rome had returned in such a state, looking so determined and spending all his time in that same red book.

Italy allowed his thoughts to wander back to that time before Holy Rome went to see England. That was the worst choice of his life in retrospect, aside from never telling Holy Rome he was a boy.

Whilst Holy Rome was away, Italy spent time in the library on his own accord. He had learnt about the differences in men and women, but worst of all he found Holy Rome's personal notes. Italy's soft voice was so feminine, his posture that of a young lady, his habits and likes expected of a girl too.

Homosexuality was heavily frowned upon, or so Italy read. People of that "Distorted Sexuality" had been killed, beaten and publicly humiliated before for it. He chose to remain as he was, pretending to be a lady for Holy Rome. Thank god puberty hit him late.

* * *

Holy Rome experienced a shock when he received a letter labelled "Urgent", the casing was yellowed from the journey and treatment. The ink was clearly printed in black, only one other nation he knew could produce this.

The letter was from England as he had expected. The letter read:

"_Holy Rome,_

_I've seen many strange things in this world. But none more powerful that what I intend to tell you in my next words, they concern the author of the book you asked about. His name is_ "_Teufel Mephistopheles", no doubt you know what it means._

_Mephistopheles is a powerful demon, believed to be Satan's right hand man. However, it is possible to summon him and gain his power, although it holds a great risk. If you rely on the demon, you will be given but twenty-four years to yourself, then you will be taken from those you love._

_Do not let Italy know what you've done, least of all the Pope either. You will never be forgiven if you do. I hope you make the right choice._

_All my trust,_

_England_

_P.S. In the book, read page 201."_

Holy Rome set the letter down on his table in the library. "But there is only two-hundred printed pages…" Regardless, he opened his book to page two-hundred and one. A chill shocked his body. He had found a page that had never existed before.

The text's new page featured English writing, it was now Holy Rome's secret, and no one else in Austria's home could ever read it.

Quietly he spoke the printed poetic language;

"_Power is patience, Or once it had been,_

_Now I seek haste, Summon him here,_

_Transcend my his world, Go unseen,_

_Reach through, Meet me near._

_Death is my release, And so it will be,_

_Twenty-four, By Six-Six-six,_

_I accept the terms, I'll take thee,_

_Now come here, Quick, Quick, Quick._

_Mephistopheles, I summon you from the depths!"_

Holy Rome tensed after the incantation, aware of the malice filling him with every syllable. He looked about the room, expecting something to happen.

Several long moments passed, then Holy Rome sat in his chair at the lengthy table. He was only interrupted by a flash of light from behind. He turned, shocked, only to hear the shattering sound of thunder break over the landscape visible from the low window.

The silence never broke, the darkness frightening Holy Rome enough to put him on edge. He felt as if he was open to anything, vulnerable to the world for letting himself fall so easily under this prank. He wasn't going to get power from talking.

Holy Rome stood up and said aloud, "You can't play pranks on me like that!" His voice was suddenly caught short, he sat down again. He began to shiver quietly, terrified again as a voice resounded in his head.

"Hello Ludwig. I've been expecting you."

Holy Rome tried to let out a scream, no sound could leave his open jaws.


	4. Desire

The Holy Roman Empire let out many voiceless cries of terror as the dark voice continued to resound in his head. He couldn't control his own body, "Poor thing" came the voice again.

Mephistopheles spoke in the boy's head, ushering Holy Rome under his control. "You wanted me, then you will have all my power and knowledge for twenty-four years. Then you will be mine, then prey of a thousand demons" He let out a vicious laugh that echoed through the room, it shook the windows, caused books to flap open under the force of the wind. Holy Rome saw the door open slowly, terrified for what would come in through it, he closed his eyes.

A soft voice spoke out, "H-Holy Rome?"

The voice was soothing, like a long forgotten memory. Holy Rome opened his eyes slowly, "Italy?"

Italy was dressed in her usual maids' uniform, a flattering dress with green to compliment her look. Holy Rome had never been so pleased to see her, however she looked different this time. As if she had a purpose for being there. She spoke out to him "Holy Rome, I wanted to speak to you".

Holy Rome was astounded, firstly she, Italy, wanted to speak with him. Secondly, the room wasn't ravaged as he had seen. He thought to himself "I must be mad", then aloud he said, "Yes Italy, what is it?"

She gave him a warm smile, "I missed you so much, and all I could think about everyday was you." She put her arms out and hugged the German child tightly. "You won't go away again, will you?"

Holy Rome didn't take time with his reply, "No Italy! I will never leave you!" Internally he felt a sense of dread set in as a dark voice murmured in his mind "You will leave her soon Holy Rome, believe me."

* * *

The next few days were like bliss. Italy clung to Holy Rome's side whenever Austria didn't seek his help. Italy was so surprised Holy Rome didn't see any problems with them both being boys, well, that or he didn't know. Either way Italy had found himself so drawn to Holy Rome that anytime he went anywhere he somehow ended up walking past Holy Rome.

Italy kept getting strange urges and desires, the most irritating were that he knew what direction he would walk to find something or do a task. Even finding a broom to clean the floor involved taking the longer route, heading for an entire walk of the grounds and seeming to stalk his love before going and taking up the brush.

This was blissful, or so it seemed at the time

* * *

The Holy Roman Empire felt powerful, he could stand with Austria and Hungary proudly without fear of being belittled. Across the years Holy Rome had sent numerous messages to his cousin over the water, England. He was shocked to hear that England had been growing rapidly whilst Holy Rome remained a child. In his letters England had stated numerous details about France causing problems across Europe, even bringing up his earlier occupancy of England.

One particular letter stood out to Holy Rome, this was received some twenty years after the deal was struck with the devil's boy;

"_Holy Rome,_

_I've been looking into our families' magic again. I have found a way to contact with Mephistopheles, although I'd learnt a great horror. The souls of those whom strike a deal with him are drawn to hell._

_I am terrified for you. He named you 'Ludwig', it means 'Great Warrior' in my tongue. I am certain he intends to take you in a violent confrontation._

_I know he is a relative of you, but avoid France. The future looks bleak._

_All my love,_

_England, your brother."_

Days were spent fussing over this letter, although Holy Rome never let Italy see it. She was clearly wanting to understand the secrets he hid, but he never told her any of them, least of all about the events that occurred just moments before she walked into his library in Austria's house.

Holy Rome walked into the main hall in the twenty-third year, Italy entered from the other side at the same time. Both were used to this by now, although Italy still claimed their love was just as strong. Holy Rome knew that she never had a choice though.

'The Roman Empire', Italy's grandfather stood in the room adorn in full battle gear reminiscent of his finest soldiers. Holy Rome knew what this meant, he hated the idea of battle. He had faced so many in his short life, he thought aloud "I've lived a few hundred years. That's not enough"

Italy turned to Holy Rome and asked him "Whatever do you mean Holy Rome?" Her face fallen, a look of discomfort.

Holy Rome replied with an upset look, "I am so sorry. I have to go, although I promised never to leave your side."

The Italian maid simply smiled, although her tears began to flow. She muttered, "Holy Rome, I'll miss you."


	5. The End Of An Empire

Italy stood with Holy Rome by a grand gate. Their Grandfathers waiting to head into war with the French.

Italy leaned forward and kissed Holy Rome, their lips soft and warm together just for a moment. Then Italy drew back slowly and faced his lover again. "Holy Rome, I'll miss you. Come back safely for me"

* * *

Holy Rome stood shocked at the kiss. How could someone so delicate give something so special to someone who had sold his soul to the devil to be able to love her?

* * *

Italy turned about on his heels, then he returned to view holding the same broom he used to brush Austria's floor so many time. Across those twenty-four or so years, Italy had always stopped to see his first love on the way to get this brush. He always put it down to their incredibly tight bond, how much they truly loved one another.

* * *

Holy Rome tensed up as he saw Italy present the brush. Holy Rome grasped it and held it near. He had always seen her go and get it after Mephistopheles brought her to him, then she'd gently bush down the dusty floors or wash away stains. He knew that it wasn't really love, not from her anyway.

* * *

Italy stood proud of his Holy Rome as he walked away through the gate, this would not be the last time. He knew it deep inside. Even if he had to run away to war to find him.

Little did Italy know, that this would not be that war.


	6. Possibilty

The Twenty-Fourth year, that was the shortest year for The Holy Roman Empire. The collection day.

Holy Rome sat in his white tent, held up by large wooden poles and string. He sat upon the same wooden chair, at a smaller wooden table. The same blasted book resting closed upon its top, blood red and scribbled all over.

The battle was raging outside in 'Austerlitz', the French having defeated the majority of Holy Rome's army already. He frequently sent letters home, he received any back. No longer could he speak to his love, Italy, or his brother, England.

All he felt was left, was to step outside and confront France or Napoleon himself.

With one last look to the broom he left by his bed, the nation buckled his black tunic tight, and picked up his blade. He had named the sword 'Faust', after a scholar in a legend. He too had sold his soul to Mephistopheles, in exchange for power and a love. Holy Rome liked this feeling, it meant he wasn't alone in his mistakes.

He turned to the broom one more time. He could have sworn he had heard Italy's laugh a he looked. Maybe this was the devil taunting him as he had done so many times.

Holy Roman looked at the entrance to the tent. He began to sob as he remembered Italy, "I love you so much."

Holy Rome went outside, into war, into Hell.

* * *

Italy sat alone in the library in Austria's house, he was always praying to god to ask for Holy Rome's safety. To make it worse to handle puberty had finally started hitting in after Holy Rome had left. He spoke in a higher voice every now and again, but when it finally deepened he knew for certain one thing. He was no longer Holy Rome's woman.

* * *

Oh time has been cruel to Italy.

He is taller, smarter, and absent minded. He spends him time thinking of food, pasta, food, and more pasta, then the occasional cat too.

On this particular day, Italy has been looking around in Germany's house. He likes this man, he too is tall, blonde haired, and has the eyes of the ocean as Holy Rome once did. Not that he would ever say that to Germany.

Germany's loft featured lots of weird things, stuffed dogs, boxes of his "Special" magazines, a broom.

That was odd to Italy, a small 'Push Broom'. It must have just been a coincidence, after all it was covered in dirt as if it had been left in the mud for a few years.

Moving on, Italy had found several books in a box labelled "Return to Austria". Italy laughed, "Ahhh, Silly Germany, he should remember when he has other people's stuff in his boxes" He let out a laugh as he opened the box, "Well, Mister Austria won't mind at all."

Some of the books had strange German names, he noticed one written in English, a much more common language. He'd picked some up in his youth from… Well… "Holy Rome. This was his book."

Italy looks upon the scrawled copy of "An Unlimited Knowledge". Upon opening the cover he saw a scribbled note in bad hand-writing "Holy Rome and Italy". He looked stunned as he read, "What… Why would Germany have this?"

Italy's pondering was cut short as the hatch opened. He scrambled to try and fit the books back in their tight cardboard case, but to no avail. The German slowly walked closer, his height about eight inches more than Italy's. He sighed heavily and with his German accent said, "Okay Italy, what have you got there?"

Italy froze up, holding the red book close as all manner of memories flowed about his delicate mind. "Germany, where did you get these books, and the broom?"

The German stood confused and shocked, "I've no idea" came the shocked reply. "I guess Prussia gave then to me as a child, or teenager, whatever I was at the time. I really don't know my childhood"

Italy picked up the red book and showed it to Germany, "Someone used to read this. He loved me and I loved him as a kid." Italy sat upon the wooden floor amongst the dust.

Germany allowed himself to sit by Italy, then he flicked the cover open. He saw a name that rung familiar to him, "The Holy Roman Empire Of The Germanic Provinces? I think I've heard of him from Austria."

Italy smiled at Germany, then said with a smile "He told me I'd see him again, maybe you just forgot who you were." He kissed Germany's cheek. "You have his broom, his books. That's all I need to know you're my Holy Rome."

Germany smiled softly at Italy, then picked up some scraps of paper. Letters, from England to Holy Rome. Germany skim read them, then quickly tore them up.

Italy questioned Germany, "Hey, why'd you do that? I wanted to read it." His face still bright though, as if some spark had returned.

Germany simply smiled as he threw the scraps of paper across the loft. He spoke in a happier tone, "Hey, Italy. Let's go cook some pasta, that makes you feel good doesn't it?"

The Italian let out his usual loud "Ve~" and rushed down the steps and into the kitchen like a speeding bullet, kicking up the dust like old memories.

Germany was left alone in the loft. He picked up the rose-red book, then put it back in its box, such things need never be used again. He pushed the box back into a corner, with a passing glance he saw a painted drawing for him by the younger Italy, and a blood stained black tunic. When he looked back, he saw the blood was still wet. No. It was his imagination.

Germany went to leave the loft, the sound of the cheery Italian audible from all the way up three floors. With one more glance all was fine, and the dust kicked off his memories.

The End


End file.
